


Linen

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: A moment in the mess hall.
Relationships: Tal Celes/William Telfer
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	Linen

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

No matter what Neelix says, the substance in Billy’s cup definitely isn’t _coffee_.

That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a malicious alien alternative that’s highly deadly to humans, but it also doesn’t mean it’s not, and William Telfer isn’t the kind of man that takes chances. Not with his life, anyway. He squints down at the deep brown liquid, swirling it about his cup, debating whether or not it’s worth covertly dumping into a plant and replacing with something safely out of the replicator. It might offend Neelix, who was so happy to pass the steaming pot into Billy’s trembling hands, but it wouldn’t be the first time he refused to eat one of Neelix’s untested Talaxian concoctions. 

He’s so busy staring down his not-coffee that he doesn’t notice Celes coming in, right until she’s right in front of him, her flowery perfume all around him—something that, thankfully, he’s proven not allergic to. She doesn’t stop walking when she’s reached him, but she does flash him a weak smile and offer a shallow wave. Then she’s plunking down onto the couch beside him, shuffling perilously close, much closer than he lets most people get. But Celes is far from _most people_.

Celes tosses the throw pillow between over to Billy’s other side and crosses the line between cushions, slumping onto his. She sighs, “Thank goodness you’re here,” mid-movement, proclaiming around a yawn, “I’m _so_ tired.” 

“It’s the middle of the day.” The words have barely left his mouth before he’s correcting, “Well, simulated day. Alpha shift. Isn’t it your day off?”

“It is _now_ , but yesterday was _the worst_ , and I was up all night on that stupid sensor report—which you were _no help with_ , by the way—”

To be fair, he worked a long day too, and she called him right in the middle of a beautiful dream of being back on Earth, lounging on Bora Bora, fully inoculated and on an isolated beach with the doctor on speed dial. 

As she pushes at his arm, practically man-handling him into the shape of a pillow, he asks, “So why aren’t you in bed?”

“Ugh, my _brilliant_ roommate—” It’s just _dripping_ in sarcasm. “—Had the brilliant idea to replicate an ant farm, only to realize she’s still afraid of bugs. Screamed, dropped the tank, and everything. She got leave to take a shift off and clean up, but... like I’m gonna sleep in there _now_.”

Finally finished getting the couch to her liking, she slouches down onto him. Her head hits his shoulder, her soft cheek cushioned against the blue-green of his uniform, and suddenly her intentions are clear: she’s going to take a nap right in the middle of the mess hall, right _on him_.

He experiences two vivid emotions in quick succession. First, a serene sort of pleasure, because it’s strangely sweet, and he’s honoured that she feels so comfortable around him. That his presence is somehow better than her bedroom. She said _thank goodness_ when she saw him, like she couldn’t imagine a better pillow. 

But then, her room’s apparently ant-infested, so of course the mess hall’s better, and also maybe _she’s_ infested—maybe there are ants crawling under her uniform right now and they’re going to get all over him. It takes everything in Billy not to release a violent shudder. He doesn’t dare. Despite the imminent threat of creepy-crawlies, he can’t dislodge her. 

Pretty eyes closed against her pale cheeks, Celes murmurs, “Mm, comfy.”

Heat slithers through him. Maybe he has a fever. 

For once in his life, he doesn’t run to sickbay over it. He’ll check in after they’re done. After she wakes up. Tom Paris passes by and raises an eyebrow, and Billy offers a lame smile even though he doesn’t know Paris from a hole in the wall. He hardly knows anyone. He’s a nobody. But he’s got a beautiful woman draped over him, so that’s something. 

Because he can’t get up to go replicate another one now, he dares the coffee. 

It tastes, to his complete and utter shock, like coffee.


End file.
